The Storm That Brought You to Me
by Bruteaous
Summary: Livia is a young and ambitious Roman commander jostling for absolute power in the Roman world, but what happens when she happens upon a young Amazon who changes the course of events in her life forever? A Livia/Varia love story.
1. Secrets on Olympus

_**The Storm That Brought You to Me**_

_**Disclaimer 1: **_Let me begin by saying that I do not own Xena or any of the characters from the show and this story is written only for the entertainment of myself and other readers. :]

_**Disclaimer 2**_: This story is an AU fic and does not necessarily follow the exact timeline or outcomes of events from the show. In going along with that, I also have made no attempt to hold to historical accuracy where the Romans or any other people are involved and as such some historical characters may appear in the same time period when they lived at the same time as others who lived a few or so years later or keep characters alive past the dates when they actually died. Some details of Roman life, the house Octavian is descended from, and such are represented as accurately as possible, but I have also taken artistic license with the story and liberties with the characters of Octavian, his wife, and his contemporaries. I have always loved history, but to me the story I am trying to tell is more important than trying to limit myself to historical boundaries just to be accurate. And since the series itself is set as a historical fantasy of sorts, I figure I have the creative license to get away with it. Everyone enjoy. :]_**  
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_**I. Secrets on Olympus**_

The torches lining the walls of the council chamber to the Gods were lit with eternal fire, their glow just becoming visible against the white marble ramparts as the sun sank beyond the horizon. When the sun disappeared completely, they became an orange glare coloring the veined walls and everything within them.

Athena entered the chamber and was the first of the Olympians to arrive. She wore a very practical shirt of scale armor, each of the small leaf-like pieces of iron having been struck into life on Hephaestus' anvil and sewn together with hair from the Furies. The shirt covered her entire torso and gave way to a short skirt of leather strips that ran over the red silk tunic beneath, both ending at about mid-thigh. As she walked, she supplemented her step with her spear, the butt of it clicking against the stone blocks along with the heels of her sandals. Her customary shield and helmet were not with her, but at any time she would have to but whisper and they would be at her disposal should she need them. Her dark hair was made up and only trickled casually down to the sides of her face in soft curls.

She stopped by one of the walls. Blue eyes stared into the veined marble, easily seeing the scenes lightly chiseled there by her father's nymphs, scenes depicting men being punished for their crimes against the gods, scenes of gods laying with mortals, scenes depicting the Titans being thrown into Tartarus for all eternity and her father's rise to rule the heavens with Hera and their brothers at his side. Scenes that could only be viewed by the nightly glow of the eternal flames, in the absence of the sun.

Beside them all was a depiction of something no mortal or immortal had had ever experienced. It showed Zeus and all of the Olympians being cast out of Olympus and no one taking their place.

"Disturbing isn't it?"

The voice hovered in the air before its owner appeared in the center of the room.

"To think that humans could possibly govern themselves. They're only a few steps up from animals."

"The Twilight of the Gods. It is a myth." Athena said, stepping back from the wall.

"It is now." Ares said, his voice low and dismal despite the fact that he should be feeling anything, but that way after all it had cost them to corner Xena, Gabrielle, and that troublesome little Eve to ensure their survival.

"Exactly." Athena continued running her hand over one of the sacred flames and watching as the fire curved to miss her, "We have made sure of that. Now, we have to make sure the mortals know we haven't gone anywhere."

"What do you propose to do?" Ares asked, curious.

"I propose we find a way to get our worshipers back, tenfold. If not the Greeks then some of their neighbors. The Thracians, the Romans. We must find a way to make them accept and worship all of us."

"The Romans are no problem. They have a new leader who prays to me regularly for military guidance. I'll have Rome wrapped around my little finger by the first snowfall." Ares smirked.

"Don't count on it just yet, little brother. After all, what is a little brute strength without strategy." Athena said, mirroring his expression and crossing her arms over her chest. "How do you think your little Roman prince came to be a favorite of Caesar in the first place, hm? It certainly had nothing to do with manly muscle on his part."

Ares snorted, "Whatever. Later, Sis."

With that he dissipated and was gone and Athena was left to her own meditations.

Yes, something had to be done about these strong willed mortals.

* * *

The city was surprisingly quiet. In the still of the evening, cool air had rolled down from the Alps enticing a thick fog into being at the waters of the Rubicon that hung like a silver curtain over the Roman countryside. It was through this curtain that Octavian and his troops returned to their beloved Rome.

The soldiers accompanied their master as far as the palace gates, where only the praetorian guard was permitted to escort the emperor inside. In the main courtyard, Octavian dismounted his horse. Livia Drusus, his third wife in such a short span of four years, stood on the steps, ready to receive him. Though the two of them were not in love, per se, they were very well suited to one another as political allies and soul mates in all things. Usually, most decisions in government were made with Livia's consent and even sometimes her input (secretly of course). As were all decisions in the imperial household, which was why the young dark haired woman was mildly confused when her husband took a blanketed bundle from one of his guards and approached her with it.

"My Lady." He inclined his head to her with a dashing smile as he ascended the steps.

"My Lord." She returned the greeting. Then, when he was close enough, Livia peeked into the folds of cloth he held only to see the face of a contently sleeping infant sucking on its thumb as it curled close to his breastplate. "And who is this?"

A shadow fell over Octavian's tan face and he averted his eyes to the infant in his arms, "This is Eve, the daughter of a dear late friend. We are her family now."

No more fuss was made on the matter as the two entered the house and seemed to go about their lives peacefully for a while. The baby was tucked away in a bassinet that had to be borrowed from the slave quarters until another one could be permanently acquired or made for her. Almost immediately, Octavian was called into a meeting with a few senators who had been anxiously awaiting his return. While he was away, Livia was left alone with the child.

At first, she had tried to ignore it by continuing on with her needlework the way a good Roman matron, by example, was expected to while the men were away, but like any hot blooded Roman woman….Livia got bored. Before she knew it, the young brunette's curiosity had gotten the better of her and she went to the office where the little girl was being sequestered in until they could decide upon a place for her. As a mother herself, she couldn't ignore that part of her more delicate nature was stirred by the sight of the baby laying so innocent and oblivious in her crib, but at the same time, her practical and political sensibilities were waving red flags in the back of her mind.

Any child not of royal blood who was adopted—as this girl might be should the emperor feel inclined to do so—into the imperial family, male or female, could be an immediate threat to the established heirs. Over the courses of his past two marriages before Livia, Octavian had produced only one surviving child, a daughter, Julia. Though Roman law dictated that a woman could hold no power by herself, the very fact that Octavian had produced a legitimate child whose own children could be counted as his heirs produced a threat towards Livia and her two sons from her previous marriage: Drusus and Tiberius, whom she was determined to see instated as powerful men in Rome, if not emperors.

Julia was already enough of a problem to contend with. Livia didn't need another vile ingredient thrown into the pot. Whatever was to happen, whatever her feelings for the child—if anything—might one day prove to be, one thing was certain: Livia couldn't allow her husband to adopt this Eve. There was just too much at risk. Especially if the girl turned out to be one of those vicious little social climbing trollips that seemed to be trying to worm their way into imperial good graces more and more these days. If Livia was lucky, but she could not convince Octavian to give up the child, perhaps, she might be able to convince him to arrange a marriage between the girl once she came of age and her younger son, Drusus. After all, then Livia would be able to keep an eye on the little witch before she could become a potential problem.

All of Livia's scheming though, was only a backup plan. She fully intended to do everything in her power to convince her divine husband that this Eve didn't belong in the imperial household. If anything, she should be adopted out to the family of a senator or one of Augustus' generals. Agrippa would be a perfect candidate. As Octavian's closest friend and brother-in-law, he would be able to keep the girl in check better than anyone else in the Rome.

Perhaps though…that wouldn't be necessary. Maybe there was a still a way she could turn this situation to her advantage…

Packing away her thoughts, Livia leaned over the crude bassinet; dark blue, almost violet eyes watching the movements of Eve's chest as it rose and fell in a soft, steady rhythm.

There was a way she might be able to save face and let the girl live without further endangering her position at Augustus' side as well as the well being of her sons. If she could raise the girl in accordance with her wishes, to be loyal to her, to believe with she taught her, then the empress would not only be able to elude any hint of a threat to her surpremacy, but also gain a valuable ally who would always stand by her side should her husband's daughter, Julia, chose to turn on her.

I was a near perfect plan with not one flaw she could think of.

Livia smiled. Baby Eve whimpered in her sleep and brought her fist up to her mouth to suck on.

"She's magnificent isn't she?"

The empress turned around to see her husband leaning casually in the door frame.

Livia nodded her head and moved towards Augustus. When she was close enough, she leaned up and kissed him. The kiss lingered for a minute or so and then Livia pulled back only far enough to star into her husband's eyes.

"She is. I wish we could have a child quite as beautiful."

"She's ours now, to raise as we see fit." Augustus said.

"What about her parents? What became of them?" Livia askesd.

"Her mother was a good friend of mine as a boy. She saved me from execution by Caesar's enemies in Greece. If she hadn't I wouldn't be here, but she had many enemies because of all of her exploits and many of them wanted to kill the child. So she left the girl with me and faked their death so her enemies would finally leave them be. When I arrived at the place where we were supposed to meet again, she was gone. I don't know what became of her, but I swore to her to safeguard her daughter while she was in my care and I intend to keep my word."

"Such a brave soul you are, beloved."

Augustus smiled and took her hand in his, kissing the end of each fingertip and then the inner palm, "Since she is ours now, we can rename her if you like? Give the girl a proper Roman name."

"Hm. I wonder, would it be proper—to name her after an influential woman of your own family or of legend? We could name her Atia, after your mother." Livia looked at him fondly, hiding the contempt she felt deep inside at the mention of her infamous mother-in-law.

May the old witch rest in peace.

Augustus crossed his arms over his chest and let out a deep breath casually, "No, I don't think it would be proper to name her after one of the Julii when she's not a blood relative. Perhaps, we can call her Livia the Younger in honor of my beloved wife and the dearest of all Roman matrons."

An expectant grin spread itself across the empress' face and she leaned forward until their foreheads were nearly touching, their breaths mingling, "What ever you command, husband, it will be done."

* * *

"Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."

-Seneca the Younger- (1 BC - 65 AD)

**_Author's Note: _**Thank you Everyone for reading. Please drop me some feedback so I know how you all are liking the story and maybe a few suggestions of what you might want to see in future chapters wilth the character of Livia. Cheers! :]


	2. Life in the Provinces

_**II. Life in the Provinces**_

One word: Cicero.

The man was a pinnacle of civilization. He was her favorite author and yet she'd never read anything that he'd written. He was her favorite public speaker and she knew the very sound of his voice by heart.

"In men of the highest character and noblest genius there is to be found an insatiable desire for honour, command, power, and glory."

There was a round of applause and Cicero raised his hand to the crowd gathered around him for silence.

"I only speak the truth, my people. And the noblest of all men in our fair country can be no other than our own Emperor, the Divine Augustus. He desires nothing but honour and the best of all things for all of his subjects. Though he was a great man, if I may say so the grand Caesar did have his flaws, but the young emperor will not make his father's mistakes. He is a noble man, a noble man who loves his country."

The crowd cheered and Cicero stepped to the side. "Now, now. Save your praise and applause for a man who is more worthy of them than I. Let me introduce you all to the man himself, Augustus Caesar!"

The throng of gathered Roman subjects roared as a young man in white and red robes stepped up onto the podium accompanied by two armored guards. His main key descriptors were medium sized, dark, and relatively handsome. Everyone knew who he was and he looked good on the money. He was good naturedly ambitious and had the sharp angled face of an honest Roman man. Or at least his hast two wives had thought so. He was Octavius Augustus Caesar and he was a star.

"Thank you, silver-tongued Cicero. Hail people of Corinth! Rome honours her Greek sons and daughters."

The crowd applauded as a well-dressed young woman about the emperor's age and two younger boys were escorted up onto the platform by another guard.

"Tonight I will bless the celebrations in honor of our shared god Bacchus. My wife, Livia the Elder, will be guiding the virtue and good will of the dancing virgins and my step-sons Tiberius and Drusus will be judging the dances of the satyrs and the Bacchae, respectively. May we all feast much, drink to excess, and party until the day is made young again!"

This time the approval of the crowd roared, drowning out any other sounds. Free men, slaves, women, merchants, nobles, soldiers, children: all paid worship to their god of the moment the divine Augustus Caesar and the parties his money could buy. When the people began to disperse and go back to the daily business of living, Cicero addressed the young emperor.

"Caesar." He inclined his head slightly and then turned to the empress, "Lady Livia, you are looking resplendent as always. And Lords Tiberius and Drusus, you both almost have the look of men."

"What can I do for you, my dear Cicero?" Augustus asked, knowing full well that the older man wanted something.

"Well, my lord, as you know I have had the pleasure of tutoring both Lady Julia and Livia the Younger at your behest during my stay in the Greek provinces. Both have advanced well into their studies and both are avid students for girls, but I feel that I have taught them all that I am able and would like to be allowed to relocate back to Rome within the near future."

"Would you?" Augustus asked, folding his arms across his chest and bringing one hand up to his chin. "And if I were to allow you to return to Rome, what would you do there?"

The politician followed after the royal family as they descended the platform down into the courtyard surrounded by the emperor's praetorian guard. " I would devote myself, as I have done in the past, to the service of your majesty's senate."

"But you know my daughters adore you." Augustus pushed, "Young Livia in particular."

"Yes, and I equally adore them." Cicero's tone was evasive, but he maintained calm eye contact with the emperor, "but their intellectual skills have surpassed my modest teaching ability and I feel that should I prolong my stay here, they will not benefit from it as much as they could if someone else were to instruct them."

"You downplay yourself. The silver tongued Cicero is not to be matched by any man in the senate or the forum."

"I believe, your majesty overstates my humble accomplishments." Cicero knew there was nothing further he would be able to say in the matter. Either Augustus would let him go or he wouldn't.

Cicero bowed his head and backed away, "Caesar."

Augustus bowed his head in kind as the older man retreated and slunk his way through the courtyard.

"You'll have to watch that one." His wife said behind him, "He has a proud spirit and an over inflated sense of righteousness."

Augustus nodded his head. There were several old relics left over from the previous Republic that might pose a problem to him before the year was through. His wife always had a good eye for watching his back when it came to external or internal threats. As their two fortunes were linked, it was with common purpose that she looked out for his interests.

Augustus turned to her and offered her his arm. "Shall we?"

"We shall."

Together the Imperial family ascended the stairs down into the crowd and disappeared into a crowd of their guards.

* * *

The young Livia bounded up the steps to the villa, sandals thwapping loudly across the floor stones. In one of the many open foyers, Julia sat on a futon, her posture rigid like that of a carved statue situated upon the silk cushions. The older girl held a scroll out in front of her, deep, dark eyes scanning every tediously copied line with careful interest. Beside her on the floor, sat a small dark haired boy. His eyes were vacant and blankly focused on the chain shackled onto his ankle, holding him to the leg of the futon.

Livia rushed up to them and stopped short of the boy, eying him curiously.

"Who's this?"

"Father brought him back from Hispania yesterday evening." The older girl answered without looking up from her reading.

Livia cocked her head and gave the small boy in robes far too white and new to have belonged to him for long the once over, "To keep?"

Julia glanced up, eyes flicking quickly from her foster sister to the slave child on the floor.

"No. Father's selling him when he gets back to Rome. Rental houses pay through the nose for young boys because they can get a lot of life out of them before they give out."

Livia came over and sat on the floor in front of the boy who had just noticed her.

"What's his name?"

"I don't think he has one."

"Everyone has a name." Livia countered.

"Don't get attached." Julia warned. "He won't be here long."

Livia looked up at her, "Thalia stayed after Augustus brought her home."

"That's different. Thalia was bought for us." Julia said.

"But he was brought here to be with us. A playmate maybe?"

"No." Julia corrected, quickly growing flustered, "You just don't understand, Livia. It'll be better for all of us when he leaves. Untamed slaves are bad luck."

"I see you've both met Gemellus."

Both girls rose at the sound of the familiar voice and the respect they knew its owner commanded.

"He's the son of a Cantabri chieftain. I had thought of selling him, but I think I will keep him at the palace. He is beginning to grow on me."

Julia bowed lowly and after a short hesitation, Livia did the same.

"Father." Julia said.

The emperor smiled and stepped towards them. When he was close enough, he kissed his daughter on the cheek, "Julia."

Then Augustus turned to the child he had raised, but had not sired and bent to kiss her cheek. "Livia the Younger. How are you girls finding your stay in the provinces?"

"It's not Rome." Julia spoke up grimly.

"It's better," Livia announced with a smile.

Augustus looked from his daughter as she rolled her eyes to Livia who was beaming up at him like an earthbound sun and back to Julia who was giving him a firm, matronly look. His daughter was older, at least twelve winters old and there was a marked difference between how she acted these days and how she had been as a child before he had come home with baby Livia. Julia had adopted the rigid disposition of the high born Roman woman. And she was beautiful, one of the most beautiful girls in the empire…and yet she always seemed sullen like an exotic bird confined to a cage for the rest of its days.

In part, he knew he was responsible for that look on her. The nature of Augustus' position in Rome meant that everyone in his family had to be in the public eye. It put restrictions on everyone to always keep up public appearances and behave decently under the watchful eye of everyone in the empire, but for Julia, who had to grow up under such restrictions…it must be unbearable.

"How was your journey, father?" Julia asked, stepping forward.

Augustus cleared his throat, "long, but it's over now. Julia, will you walk with me?"

"Of course." Julia turned back to Livia, flashing her younger inferior the shadow of a haughty smile, "Find something to occupy yourself in our absence. Perhaps practice your Greek. I'm sure father would be delighted to hear you read from Herodotus or Homer when we return."

Livia didn't want to. She was a bright girl, but in truth there was nothing that bored her more than being confined to a desk reading or copying translations all day, but Julia was her older sister of sorts and she was expected to obey her as well as any of her tutors. The little girl nodded and Julia took her father's arm as the two of them headed for the garden.

* * *

The gardens of the villa were in bloom and had been pruned just for the occasion of the imperial family's arrival. A clear blue sky hung over their heads as the emperor and his daughter took in the main garden together.

"How do you find Livia?" He asked.

"The foster sister or the step-mother?"

Augustus chuckled at his daughter as she walked beside him, "Sister."

"We are different, but that's no reason not to despise her, I suppose. However, you should know—as should she—that she's not a Roman girl. Perhaps, she needs to be reminded of that before you let her carry on with this charade of high birth any longer."

Augusts felt a pain of anger flare up in his chest at the old Roman sentiments his daughter was so eager to spout in the face of this new world he had created. Had not his divine father cut down the Republic? Had not Caesar gone to such lengths to rid the established order of men who thought as his daughter was speaking now?

The emperor steeled himself and patted Julia's arm in a soothing gesture.

"It is your step-mother and mine's dearest wish that the two of you should reconcile and become like true sisters." He said.

Julia looked at him, but did not meet his eyes. "I might consider it, if she didn't act so coy."

"Come now, Julia, she's a child."

"May I speak plainly?" Julia asked and when she got Augustus' curt nod of approval, she continued, walking ahead of him as she did. "She envisions herself to be like an emperor, part of the family of the emperor. She has even been given her name in the honour of an emperor's wife, your wife. And you, Father, you and Mother Livia have given her all of the trappings of an emperor-in-waiting. She's not of our blood, Father, you should not be raising her like she's one of us."

Augustus straightened his shoulders and stepped in front of his daughter, stopping her in her tracks. He folded his arms behind his back austerely and starred down into eyes that were so like his own.

"Julia, she _is _one of us now. Perhaps not in name, but in taking her into this household many years ago to be raised in a place of honor alongside you, I made her more of the House of Julii than most of its own members. As my natural daughter you will honor my decision. It's been seven years. It is time you come to terms with the arrangement." Augustus relaxed his posture and reached out to cup his daughter's face between both of his hands, "She is to be treated in every way as if she was your natural sister. Do what I wish and reconcile yourself to her. I command it."

Julia stared into his eyes, the wheels in her head turning. "If I reconcile myself to her, will I be allowed to return to Rome?"

"You will have to one day soon. You're almost of marriageable age and I cannot think of a more beautiful woman to give away."

Augustus smiled and this time his daughter did too.

"I can't either." She said.

They finished their tour of the gardens and came back to the main house. On the terrace, they encountered Livia dressed in a boys tunic attacking the air with a wooden sword as one of the house slaves blocked the blows with a cushion off of one of the chairs.

"What on earth…Livia!" Julia shouted, mortified that her "sister" would behave in such a way. "What are you doing? Father! Do something!"

The younger girl startled at their arrival and hid the sword behind her back as if that would undo the very strange situation she'd put herself in.

"Father?"

But Augustus wasn't listening. Instead, his eyes were trained on Livia, the little girl's cheeks turning pink in expectation of whatever punishment she'd be dealt for behaving as only boys were allowed to, dressing in a boy's clothes, and carrying training a sword made for a future legionary. But Augustus wasn't seeing her. Instead, he saw her mother and the blazing blue eyes of the woman to whom he owed so much. Perhaps Rome had had enough of fighting men. Perhaps, even, the empire could use a woman's touch. The daughter of Xena would be wasted on a weaving loom or a senator's list of wives.

The emperor snapped out of it and moved to comfort his daughter, "Calm yourself, Julia. Livia, come here."

The girl's face went even redder than it had been and she shuffled forward until she was standing directly in front of him.

"Yes, Augustus?"

The emperor cleared his throat, "How would you like to accompany me on my inspection of the fort outside the city after lunch?"

Livia's demeanor considerably brightened. "Really?"

"Really." Augustus smiled down at her.

"Father!" Julia cried in outrage.

"Enough." Augustus raised a hand to silence her and that was the end of the matter.

And Julia knew it. Unceremoniously, she stalked back into the house without either one of them. They both watched her go, then Livia bounced forward and wrapped her arms around Augustus' waist.

"Thank you." She breathed.

He smiled and patted her on the head, "Anytime."

* * *

Quintus Salvidienus Rufus drained what wine was left in his cup and then threw it at the wall, nearly hitting a slave who had been standing nearby.

"They're pissing on us without even the courtesy of calling it rain!" He gripped.

"Rufus."

The general and other staff officers in the room turned to see the emperor enter through the open doorway, leading by the hand a small brown haired girl who couldn't have been more than seven or eight winters old at the most and was dressed in a fine, but austere blue gown.

"My Lord Augustus." They all saluted him.

"At ease gentlemen, I would like to introduce you all to a very important person in my life. This is Livia the Younger. She is under the care of my wife and I."

Rufus and the two other staff officers bowed their heads to her and Augustus dismissed all of them but Rufus as he moved towards the table at the center of the room where a large map and several other documents were sprawled out.

"Those bastards have routed another one of our garrison's in Cantabria." Rufus paced and gestured wildly as Augustus leaned over the maps, Livia following suit and getting her first real look at the empire. "I am beginning to wonder how profitable Hispania really is to hang on to if we're spending the years marching through shit the whole way."

"They pay taxes. That makes them profitable."

A slave rushed up and set a chair behind Augustus and retreated again. Livia watched as another one did the same for the standing general and just before the man managed to flee, Rufus smacked him upside his head then sat down. The emperor took his seat and Livia crawled up onto his lap, both of them leaning over the map together.

"What's this place?" Livia pointed to a red dot on the coast of northern Spain.

"That is one of the garrisons that has been overtaken by the tribes there."

"Why is it marked?"

"So that we know where the rebels have overtaken our defenses so we can better prepare our own strategy. Take care, young Livia, never plan or use a strategy even if it has been tried and succeeded, if you at first don't know the character of your surroundings."

Augustus tipped the girl's chin back with his fingers so that he could look into her eyes. "One day, my girl, you will be a warrior for Rome. You have skills, that much is guaranteed in your blood, all you need do is apply them wisely. You could be great. Better than Caesar. More feared than Sulla and as gifted with strategy as Pompey Magnus. And as strong and formidable as Xena, the legendary Warrior Princess."

"No. Stronger." Livia piped up with a smile.

Rufus yawned and lounged back in his seat as another cup of wine was brought to him.

"May the Gods have mercy on Rome then," He muttered under his breath.

* * *

The blade cut into her skin in furious strokes like lashes of a whip, but she could not stop herself. The sting it caused was surprising, but welcome. Each open gash was met with a few tears streaming down her cheeks. She needed this. It was better than feeling nothing.

She was Julia the Elder of the House of Julii on whose suffering and blood Rome's Imperial glory had depended. She wasn't destined to suffer this way. Hers was one of the richest lives imaginable for a girl of her age. Her father was the ruler of the largest and lushest empire in the known world and she was the apple of his eye…or had been. That is until that girl had come and stolen her father away from her. The younger Livia—as she was called—had come to them and completely overturned the routine of Julia's life forever. The girl was rambunctious, excitable, good natured, and a dreamer: all of the things Julia wasn't.

Julia was reserved, clever, but quiet, austere, and most importantly of all regal. These were all of the things she had been brought up to believe a proper Roman woman was. It was how her stepmother Livia portrayed herself to the empire. Why then did her father seem to adore an orphan girl over his own daughter? He sided with her and gave her anything she wished for, even giving into her unnatural tendencies to dress in a boy's short tunic sometimes and run about with a wooden sword. Her father had always wanted a son and a daughter, two as he had been close to his sister Octavia while growing up in Rome, and in Livia, it seemed that he found at least some measure of what he desired: a young, beautiful girl full of a young Roman boy's dreams.

Julia swallowed and tried to breathe. The stinging cuts on her arms were drawing tears to the corner of her eyes just as blood rose to the surface of her broken skin. The dagger dropped to the table with a loud metallic ring. Her hands felt cold. A cool breeze blew in from the window and dried the tears on her cheeks into skeleton trails.

* * *

**_Author's Note:_** Read and review please! :]


	3. The Remains of a Republic

_**III. Remains of a Republic**_

Cold.

She felt the bitterness of the early morning chill that had settled firmly into the land though it was barely past midnight.

Livia's grip tightened around the sword at her side. Goosebumps covered the skin of her bare arms and legs, but she ignored them. She sat on her horse, comfortably hidden by the darkness of the night and the trees of the forest surrounding her. There was no moon and the stars were the only light in the wilderness besides the glow coming from the torches of the village situated in the clearing ahead of her.

One of her commanders, Suetonius, nudged his horse up so that it was parallel to hers.

"The heathens' village seems to have quieted…finally." He said.

Livia nodded.

The Dacians had engaged the Romans in battle earlier in the day. Finding herself and her troops at a disadvantage—not because they were outnumbered, but because they were on the low ground and had to climb towards the Dacians to engage them—Livia had called a retreat and the enemy had taken it as a victory. They'd made a vital mistake though. Instead, of pressing their strategic advantage on the battlefield—which would have been temporary, Livia mentally commented—and pursuing the Romans back to their camp, the Dacian soldiers had returned to their village and celebrated their "victory" long into the evening.

The commotion had finally died down and most of the soldiers were probably passed out drunk in their huts while all of the elders, women, and children were already sound asleep in their beds.

It was a perfect opportunity, one she just couldn't pass up.

She could see from her vantage point there was almost no one walking around in between the buildings and very few natives, even if they were still awake she estimated, who would be lucid enough to fight back against a full unit of professional soldiers on horseback in the dead of night. Most of Dacia had been conquered by her and her legions and only this north eastern tip with a few remaining free villages separated her from military glory.

"We could always camp here for the night and storm them in the morning. It would be easier to assess the difficulty terrain in daylight and the men could get some rest before we raid them. We'd still be able to overtake them rather easily." Suetonius suggested.

"No." Livia said, the tone of her voice telling him that her plans weren't up for negotiation. "We attack tonight."

"But the danger to our horsemen riding through the valley on a moonless night—"

"Isn't great." Livia stated, closing the matter for discussion.

Suetonius shut his mouth at that and Livia urged her horse forward into the tree line that separated the forest from the clearing where the village was.

When the Roman cavalry rode into the city, it was Livia who led them. The first blood to be spilled was spilt with her sword as it took off the head of an old man putting out one of the large cooking fires that had fueled the night's celebrations. His body curled into the sand beneath the hooves of the horsemen flooding into the village. He hadn't seen them coming.

Suetonius dismounted, pulled a still burning log out of one of the dying fires and tossed it on top of a nearby hut. Then he used his spear to barricade the door. There weren't any sounds coming from inside at first, then the air was filled with screams and smoke all at once. Huts and their families were razed into a pile of smoldering ashes. Those who were not drunk or passed out and managed to escape their burning homes were cut down by the Roman soldiers who were waiting for them.

And Livia was foremost among them.

Every Dacian she passed, she stabbed, maimed, or decapitated. In half an hour's time, there were no Dacians left alive. Some of the older people who had resisted against the certainty of death were crucified by firelight as were some of the children who had tried to run away, but had never made it into the safety of the trees. There was usually little profit in killing everyone and leaving no survivors to sell at auction, but to Livia, there was the thrill of it all, the power to wield death over an entire populous. The very feeling which sustained her, caused her blood to run hot, caused her to feel alive as opposed to feeling nothing, like the walking corpse she was reduced to whenever she wasn't fighting or killing something.

When the settlement had been reduced to smoking heaps of black dust and bodies to shriveled snapshots of the horror of their last moments, Livia—face and armor glistening with blood-sat by one of the cooking fires and pulled the last edible bits of meat from the spit cooling over the embers until the last spark bled to white.

* * *

Fingers ran themselves through her chestnut hair and the girl beneath her moaned. A deep and urgent sound that made Livia's lips curl into a smile against the girl's breast. Her fingernails scaled up the soft underside of a thigh, leaving slight red furrows in the smooth skin there.

And there they stopped.

The girl whimpered without meaning to and opened her eyes, staring up at the smiling Roman, her breathing still labored as heat and confusion rolled off of her in waves.

Livia didn't want to give the girl too much time to think or else she might remember just who had her and begin to struggle. Instead, she bent down and kissed the girl's lips and flipped her over before she could return it so that the newly made slave was laying on the cot on her stomach. Livia felt the muscles in the girl's body tense and moved her mouth to the side of her captive's neck and one of her hands between her legs. Skilled fingers dove and glided nimbly through slick folds, touching where it made the girl gasp or surge against her. Soon Livia felt the girl beneath her relax and weave her legs around Livia's body as another sort of tension began to build within her.

It didn't take Livia long to find her center and begin stroking it at a quick pace. The girl moaned and pushed back into her with her hips. Livia smirked against her skin and increased the speed of her movements. The girl writhed beneath her as Livia's fingers divulged and ravaged the pleasurable secrets of her most private places, places she had never thought of touching herself or of letting anyone else ever touch. Places she had never given a second thought to her whole life and now this Roman woman was giving her pleasure beyond her wildest imaginings. The ropes on the slave girl's control finally frayed to breaking and a dam burst inside her, her whole body tightening as waves climaxed through her entire being.

Livia smiled and untangled herself from the slave, moving over to a stand by the wall of the small room where a stone basin had been set with a jug of clean water by one of the palace slaves. She rinsed the girl's essence from her hands and dried her hands on a folded linen cloth. When she turned, the slave girl lay watching her from the slab where she had been chained since Livia's army had arrived in Rome. She lay winded and a new emotion had joined the fire in the captive's eyes: shame for she knew she had been conquered…and not entirely against her will either.

A grin spilled over Livia's lips that reminded the captive girl of a feral mountain cat.

"You'll do nicely for my step-brother, I think," Livia said.

The slave girl's eyes widened then closed tightly shut again to keep back the tears.

"Stop that!" Livia commanded, "You're a slave this is your lot now. Please your lord and he may treat you well. Displease him and he is free to punish you. Get used to it or take your own life. Those are the options open to you."

With that she left slammed the door to the small cell behind her and marched off towards the upper levels of the palace where a nest of squabbling soldiers and old politicians were waiting to celebrate her.

* * *

A triumphal parade had been held earlier in the day to celebrate Livia's victories in Dalmatia and a party to honor her was also being held at the Royal Palace on the Palatine Hill. Every senator and every wealthy Roman was invited to celebrate the bloody accomplishments of their city's champion.

Marcus Licinius Crassus held out his cup and a female slave immediately moved to refill it. Crassus flashed her a smile, the act drawing the lines of his forty-one year old face outward like those of a spider web pulled taunt by a child. The girl moved back to her original position standing beside one of the marble walls and Crassus' eyes followed her the whole way.

The slave girl's eyes darted up from the floor for a moment to see Marcus watching her through the crowds of people moving all around her and immediately returned to the floor again. Crassus' smile widened. He was the richest man in Rome and even the palace slaves knew what that meant.

"Do you know what they're calling her in the provinces?" Crassus said to the small gathered group sitting on a circle of padded furniture. Praetor Gaius Claudius Glaber raised a dark eyebrow across from him and Crassus continued in a chuckle. "'Livia: the Bitch of Rome'."

"People should know when they're conquered." One of the senators said from behind the woman sitting on his lap.

"How befitting." Glaber said before popping a piece of salted meat into his mouth and continuing, "She does behave like an animal, after all."

"I spoke with the emperor's step-son yesterday." Crassus went on, taking another sip of his wine. "Tiberius seems to be of the opinion that she's not really a Roman. He says Augustus brought her home one evening when he was a little boy wrapped in a bundle of furs and she's been living with the royal family ever since."

Glaber finished chewing and wiped his mouth on his wrist. "It makes sense. No Roman woman would dare behave on so base and low a level as she does."

This opened up a round of conversation among the elite seated in the circle.

"She isn't a man and yet she tries to be one. It's ridiculous."

"I like her. I think she has great promise as a political figure and military leader."

"Well, Marc Antony liked Cleopatra and look where it got him." One of the senators chimed in, earning a chorus of laughs from the rest of the men around him. "A sword through the stomach and nothing to show for it but blood and dishonor."

"Where is the little harlot now?"

"The Gods only know. Can you imagine? Being absent to your own triumphal celebration?"

"She's a woman. It's a perversion of nature." A tribune lounging on a mauve colored futon interjected. "The public sphere is a place for men to run in. A woman's proper place is either groveling at the feet of her father or between the legs of her husband."

There was a roar of laughter again, louder this time, and once that quieted down, the more serious talk resumed.

"I hear Augustus has appointed her as Varus' replacement in Germainia."

"I bet you 10,000 sesterces that that is a lie, Civilis." Crassus said, leaning forward over his wine glass as if daring the philosopher to disagree with him. "Augustus is too attached to the girl to send her so far away under his own orders. Even his children and step-children know he favors her."

Glaber picked a cherry off of a tray and tossed it into his mouth, chewing steadily like the gears of a mill before swallowing, "Julius Caesar favored Brutus and look what became of him."

"Quite." Crassus agreed.

* * *

The Champion of Rome arrived fashionably late for her own celebration. She made no apologies and no excuses. None were expected of her. The minute she walked into the large marble hall, everyone gathered burst into applause. Men stood from the divans, even Crassus and Glaber grudgingly rose and cheered as eagerly as they dared. A large smiled spread across Livia's face as she was joined by the Emperor.

Hand in hand they advanced the rest of the way into the room. Augustus was beaming as though he was the sun himself. The late Empress had died the previous year and since then, he had been increasingly seen in the company of his foster- daughter Livia the Younger grinning like a besotted school boy. Such matches weren't unheard of in high born families. So long as blood wasn't thick, the priests would sanction it and life would continue on normal as it ever had been. In the Roman mind, nothing but good could come of the fortifying of family blood with blood of the same type. After all, had not the gods all married one another?

There were many, however, who were against the notion of Augustus remarrying, particularly to a woman such as Livia. Were she to come into absolute power there would be many in Rome who wouldn't be safe. Powerful men like Glaber or wealthy men like Crassus whose whole families could then legally be slaughtered as traitors to the state on a whim. What sort of future would that be? Where the streets would run not with the blood of slaves or conquered peoples, but of Romans?

Augustus raised a hand and the room quieted.

"Gentlemen, we have come here tonight to honor Rome's great champion, Livia, and her triumph over the backward peoples of Dacia. On this day, she has brought Rome more wealth and glory than any of her predecessors. Hail, Livia!"

"Hail, Livia!" The room echoed.

Crassus and Glaber exchanged looks, but said nothing. The applause began again, then calmed down as the musicians started up the music again and slaves were sent around with more food and more wine. Livia walked around the room on Augustus' arm, pretending to care about what was being said to her while trying to appear the emperor's equal at the same time.

From a column where he leaned against the cold marble in his praetor's robes, Tiberius watched as Livia faked a smile at one of the senator's wives no doubt trying to engage her in some sort of menial conversation about who had married who and what sort of ideas her tribune son was trying to put through in the forum. As the senator's wife jabbered on, his dark eyes caught Livia's and a wicked smirk crossed her face. Tiberius remained expressionless, but raised his chin arrogantly higher.

Livia interrupted the woman's next stream of words, giving some menial excuse and crossed slowly across the room to Tiberius's side. They eyed one another, Tiberius not bothering to stand up straight and Livia crossing her arms across her chest in a very unladylike fashion that set her apart from all of the high bred women in the room.

Finally, Livia's smirk widened to a grin and she said, "I brought you back a gift from Dacia, brother."

"Fresh and beautiful I hope," Tiberius said without emotion.

Livia shrugged, "Relatively. I had to try her out to see if she would be good enough for you, dear Tiberius."

Tiberius used his hip to push himself away from the pillar, eyes never breaking with those of his foster sister. He was a tall, slender man not a few years older than Livia herself. For his part, he remembered almost every moment of her life where it intersected his own. He remembered the night Augustus had brought her back from the provinces and had named the girl in his mother's honor to validate her as a member of the imperial family. He remembered sparing with her and his brother, Drusus, with wooden practice swords when the girl was barely old enough to fill out her own sandals. He remembered how Julia's eyes used to smolder with envy whenever the young Livia was present and how Julia herself had tried her best to snub the young girl even at her wedding to Tiberius. Julia was a hard woman, made harder still by unfortunate tousles with Roman society and unreconciable problems with her father. It was her ever increasing bad fortune to be surrounded with hard and cruel men, as Tiberius was proving to be towards her. Theirs wasn't a happy marriage, but it was as it had to be. As the emperor had wanted it to be.

Livia, for her part, had never had to live under such restrictions. Not being, herself, of noble Roman blood, there was no stipulations upon how she conducted herself and upon what she could do so long as she had Augustus's approval, which she always did.

Livia reached forward, fingers hovering over Tiberius's cheek. His eyes followed their path and narrowed.

"You'll be pleased to have the gift I brought you, I'm sure. I believe with the proper instruction she could be quite proficient at satisfying your needs," Livia said pointedly. "A powerful man needs someone to do that for him when his wife is unable or unwilling to fulfill her marital duties."

Tiberius's hand snapped up to catch Livia's before it could settle on his face. Her grin faded and she feigned innocence.

"Was it something I said?" She cooed, taking a step closer to him.

"You and I have no illusions with one another," Tiberius said evenly. "We are of one soulless body. Cruel and uncaring, yet you put me to shame when it comes to whoring yourself into new arenas of power. Tell me, does our father enjoy fucking you? Do you enjoy riding him into states where he will give you anything you ask for even his own heart on a plate?"

Livia's innocent act dropped and genuine anger settled over her face. Had she had her sword in that moment, she would have gutted Tiberius for all of Rome to see, brother or not. Their whispers were kept low so as not to arouse suspicion though half the people in the room were already discretely watching them. It was an open secret that Tiberius and Livia the Younger had been bitter rivals for as long as they had known one another.

"I can see through you, sister, but it doesn't matter much now does it?" Tiberius dropped her hand and advanced on her, coming so close to her that whispering was made easy. "I am his legal and rightful heir. The senate knows it, Rome knows it, my legions know it, and best of all the emperor knows it. All of your wanton sucking of royal cock will come to nothing. A man of the law like our father only thinks with one head and it's not the one you're working."

"That's where you're wrong," Livia countered cleverly, "Even men, even gods, even you think with that head."

A small smile came to Tiberius's face. After a moment, it was reflected on Livia's. They had always understood one another.

Their bitter conversation was interrupted as a muscular arm slung itself loosely around Tiberius's neck. He started then relaxed as he realized that he wasn't dealing with a suicidal stranger, but the familiar intimacy of his own brother, Drusus. The fawn haired youth sidled closed to Tiberius, raising his wine glass to their much celebrated foster-sister.

"Ah! Livia, congratulations, I couldn't be happier for you!" Drusus's deep voice, unlike those of most politicians and soldiers, held a volume of unwavering sincerity that his actions never undermined, "This is truly a great day for us all and you especially. You've earned it. Just look at how much you've grown and changed over the years. Come here!"

Drusus launched forward, one arm still around Tiberius's neck, his other encircling Livia's slim form and bringing her in for a tight one armed hug. Livia returned the embrace reluctantly. The plains of Drusus's face were angular and handsome whereas Tiberius's were thin lipped and high cheeked. A witness could sometimes be hard pressed to find a resemblance between the two, but Livia could always see it, just under the surface. The two brothers were as different, at least, as night and day, maybe even more so, but closer friends than Castor and Pollux ever were in the Greek myths.

Theirs was a friendship that was born out of the necessity of having no one else to rely upon during their mother's forced divorce from their father and remarriage to Augustus. It was said nothing, not Drusus's honorable republican morals nor even Tiberius's sullen carnal cruelties could separate the two and so far whoever had said that had been right because the two were still as close as two leaves on one stem despite everything. Even though Livia had always depended upon herself and only herself in her life, she did envy the closeness of such an unbreakable bond.

Drusus's arm relented its grip and he pulled away from Livia, smiling pleasantly down at her, dark eyes twinkling in the light of the oil lamps lining the walls. Tiberius sipped from a wine goblet, his eyes peering over the dark iron at the exchange between his beloved brother and his greatest rival. Drusus was more idealistic for sure than the sullen Tiberius, but he was no idiot. He realized the good and bad in everyone, however, Drusus chose to believe in the power of the good and therefore refused to take part in all of the normal backdoor politics within Rome's noble families. He preferred camping with his armies in Germania to living in the imperial palace as Tiberius much preferred fighting roving tribes in the Alps and keeping his own company as much as possible.

"I've waited many years to see you home from the provinces and here you are, grown, beautiful as Aphrodite herself, and scandalizing all of Rome as naturally as you were born. You're a sight for sore eyes, Livia, that is for sure," Drusus said, eyes softening. "You know, Tiberius and I have always thought of you as our true sister. It was hard for us to see you leave the provinces immediately for the disciplined life of the army."

Livia's expression sobered, registering no emotion. She sipped languidly at a goblet of wine in her hand whenever the mood struck her.

"It's no different from the lives you both chose for yourselves, is it?" She asked, rhetorically deadpan.

Tiberius glanced indifferently between the two while Drusus's expression fell a little, though his smile fought to remain.

"No, no different," Drusus explained, "but it is a hard life. A lonely life. I had hoped that you would never have to know a life like that. But I do realize that a soft life would hardly have suited you."

Drusus's smile rose and Livia smirked. This man was no fool, he understood her, perhaps not as well as Tiberius, but as well as he wanted to. His ideals had and would always keep him from understanding the pleasure she found in her mass murders just as it always stopped him from understanding his brother's pleasure in his own little cruelties. Perhaps, Livia could respect Drusus for that, but if it really came down to it, if he was all that stood between her and finally getting Tiberius out of the way, what little respect she had for him would be relegated to the sidelines.

Livia sipped again at her wine, "Did Antonia come with you or have you come back to Rome alone?"

"No, I am here alone. Antonia has been ill for some time after little Germanicus's birth and sends her apologies for not being able to celebrate your victory over the barbarians in Dacia," Drusus said, his smile faltering again, "Besides she knows you don't much like her anyway."

"Antonia shouldn't feel particularly offended," Livia waved off the remark casually, "I don't like anyone."

Tiberius grinned as Drusus looked away from her, trying to pretend he hadn't heard what she'd said.

"Ignorance doesn't suit you, Drusus," Livia called his attention back to her.

Drusus raised his eyes to hers. His expression had fallen, but he could never stay mad at anyone.

"I know of your dislike of people, however, I would prefer if you wouldn't speak about Antonia that way," He explained.

Livia polished off what little was left in her wine goblet. "Duly noted," she said with a grin.

The rest of the party droned on around them, Livia taking very little pleasure in the proceedings or the hollow toasts made to her health and "honorable" character by many of the more powerful men in the room. Tiberius removed himself from the celebrations early as only a real recluse would and Drusus—after one goblet too many—ended the festivities with an oath on Juno's buxom breasts that he would serve the interests of Lady Livia for so long as she lived. Augustus seemed pleased by this, but Livia crossed her arms over her chest, unamused, and slipped out of the room without drawing attention to herself.

* * *

The tribe's hunters had brought back a decent sized boar earlier in the day and what was left of the meat was either being smoked in the smoke house or drying on racks in the back of the dining hut. Much of it had already been served to the tribe's families in a large stew made by the senior cooks and distributed as evenly as possible. The sun's light dwindled, casting its last long shadows over the necks of the pine and ash trees surrounding the crowded Amazon village of Amarynthus. Some bright stars could already be seen in the darkening purple of the eastern sky, rimming the rooflines of huts clustered together by familial ties on the hill of Euripides. Most warriors, their wives, and their daughters were safely tucked into their own homes by the time the sun disappeared behind the trees, but Varia and Tura were the exception.

Their mother had died in a battle against a bordering Scythian tribe four summers earlier and aside from a loose confederation of cousins, they were alone in the world and free to make up their own rules to live by. Amarynthus's good queen, Eiresione being an orphan herself, had instituted a law early in her reign that all motherless children were to be raised by everyone in the tribe. This law was generally followed to the letter, but it was felt with Varia and Tura that Varia at least was old enough at fifteen summers to care for both her sister and herself adequately enough. So, it wasn't uncommon for others to see Varia and Tura racing by the windows of their huts in the dimming light of evening, jostling to see who could cross the village in the best time.

"That's not fair! You're cheating!"

"Am not!"

"Are too!"

"You want to beat me, stop wasting so much of your breath complaining!"

The last few stragglers wandering home from the dining hut had to scramble out of the way of the two young girls bolting past them. The two were neck and neck until Varia sprinted that last half league to the clearing at the village's western edge.

Tura dropped into the high grasses, panting.

"No fair," She wheezed. "You always win."

"It's because you still haven't learned how to breathe properly when you run," Varia said, laying down beside Tura and stretching her limbs from her fingers to her toes.

"No, it's because you cheat," Tura grumbled, falling back beside her sister.

The sun had dropped behind the trees and the sky was fading quickly to blue in places where it wasn't already. Orion was already clearly visible in the spreading gloom and Perseus was beginning to drift in above the pines. The village was quiet and aside from the crickets there was very little noise to be heard.

"Var?"

"Yes?"

"Tell me a story, you know, like the ones mama used to tell before—" Tura couldn't finish the sentence and blinked hard to keep the building emotion behind her eyes from turning into visible tears.

Varia reached out and pulled the girl towards her with one arm.

"Which one?" She asked.

"Any one," Tura sniffed, resting against her sister's shoulder.

Varia propped her head up on her other arm and thought about it. The sky darkened around them and the mating calls of frogs added themselves to those of the crickets before Varia decided upon the story she wanted to tell.

"What about the story of Hercules and the Hydra?"

"Sure," Tura sighed unenthusiastically.

"Or of Hippolyta and Antiope's defeat of Theseus?"

"Yeah! That one," Tura voted more excitedly.

"Alright," Varia started. "Long ago, decades before the Trojan war, the legendary Amazonian capital of Themiscyra on the fringes of the Black sea was ruled by two great warrior queens, Hippolyta and Antiope. They were both very gifted fighters, Hippolyta being the more battle hungry of the two often led the nation into war, while Antiope equally as skilled with both spear and sword, often fortified the nation against any foreign invaders. It was at a time when the armies of Themiscyra were at war with the spearmen of Mesopotamia that such an invader dared to set foot on Amazon land."

"Ohh, I wonder who it could have been," Tura giggled knowingly.

Varia smiled despite herself, "It was none other than the most feared and respected of all Greek heroes, Theseus, a son of Poseidon who had brought his armies to bear on the Amazon nation. He and his infantrymen approached the gates of Themiscyra under banners of peace, but Queen Antiope knew he had no intention of peace towards the Amazons and she forbad him passage through the mountains into the capital. Theseus wasn't about to relent for he had vowed to all of Greece that he would venture into wild Anatolia and take back one of the fearsome Amazons as his queen in Athens…"

Varia stopped her storytelling, noticing that Tura's breathing had deepened and she had curled more securely into her sister's side. Varia smiled and kissed the side of her sister's head.

"We'll finish the story in the morning. Goodnight, little one."

The two children spent the night dreaming under the watch of the great figures in the heavens, waking neither for the rising night chill or the slight encasing of the grass around them like a good quilt in the evening breeze.

* * *

Just another obscure blank spot on the map…

Livia crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, staring at the tapestry map that draped down from the ceiling and covered one long wall of her bed chamber. It outlined the perimeters of the known—mainly Roman conquered—world. All free territories were classified as part of the savage wilderness that had yet to be "tamed by Western civilization" and most general maps acknowledged these areas with blank spaces—patches without labels for cities, forests, or mountains whether or not the territory might have been explored or there might have been someone who was known to be living there. As her eyes roamed the tapestry, they finally settled on a relatively modest territory just north of the Aegean Sea.

Northern Greece…and more importantly for her purposes—Amazon territory. And more significantly for Rome…the home of a prominent warrior culture and a resource rich wilderness that had never been conquered…by anyone. Not Greece. Not Persia. Not Alexander or Mithridates. And certainly not by Caesar. It was hers for the taking if she could extinguish the current inhabitants.

So far each and every conflict brought upon the Amazons by warring nations had done little more than divide them from a united population back into the scattered tribes that had formed it. They were a resistant and pesky breed…like rodents, quick to multiply and hard to kill. And unlike most barbarians, they could not be conscripted either. An easy way to assure the loyalty of the barbarian territories, at least before they were conquered, was to conscript the warriors into auxiliary army units to help Rome fight its many enemies. When the state had decided that it would have more use of the barbarian's land than of their manpower, they overtook it at their leisure. Such was the Roman way, but so far no such passive-aggressive tactics had worked on any of the Amazon tribes she had heard of.

Livia examined her reflection in the mirror beside her chair. That was all about to change if she had anything to say about it.

"If you had been born a man," A deep voice intoned from her side, "What an emperor you might have made."

Livia turned around and saw Augustus standing in front of the doors to the room. She hadn't heard him enter.

"My Lord Augustus." She stood and bowed with a learned grace.

The older man strolled nearer to her. "I hope I am not disturbing you, but I believe you asked to see me. You know, it is very rare that an emperor is called to see a subject and not the other way around."

Livia walked up to him and kissed both of his cheeks. "Caesar. Father." She said the second word with more affection and a smile that was almost genuine.

Then she led him over to the seat she had previously occupied and sat him down in it, then proceeded to sit on his lap. He encircled his arms around her waist to hold her there as one of her hands drew little circles on his breastplate.

"How did you find the party?"

"Long and somewhat unbearable." She answered honestly, staring down into his eyes.

Augustus smirked with the knowledge of a man who knew all to well the boredom of ceremony.

"Can't be helped, I suppose. What can I do for you, my dear?"

Livia leaned her head closer to Augustus until their noses were almost touching, "There's something I want."

This made the emperor laugh, a deep belly laugh that shook his whole being to its core.

"All that I have to give, I have offered to you already," Augustus replied, "What could their possibly be in the world that you could want?"

Livia traced a path from his bottom lip to the edge of his chin. "Only one thing," she said.

Augustus was completely under her spell by now (as she well knew he would be), his dark eyes locked with her hazel ones, breathing slightly elevated. Now was the time to drive her point home. Livia leaned forward and pressed a wet kiss to the hollow of the Emperor's throat. The grip of his arms around her tightened and his breath hitched in his chest at the daring act. No one else in his family, not even his former wives would dare to touch him so intimately without his permission, but Livia dared. She always dared. It was why he loved her.

"To bring you glory," Livia whispered hotly against the moist skin she'd just lifted her mouth from.

"You already have," Augustus gasped, as Livia dipped her tongue and licked up one side of his neck stopping with a slow, smacking kiss near the base of his jaw, "so much more than anyone before you."

Livia licked up his neck once more then pulled back to look into the Emperor's eyes.

"But I want to bring you more," Livia intoned seriously.

Augustus took a deep breath to regain control of his senses and asked, "How?"

"By defeating the Amazon tribes of Thrace and Thessaly and claiming their lands in your name." Livia waited and let her proclamation sink in.

Augustus eyed her wearily and swallowed hard, "The Amazon tribes of Greece have never been defeated. Pompey Magnus tried, even my great father, Caesar tried, but they both failed."

Livia stared down into his eyes, the determination in hers flooding into focus and reminding him that she was different. She had always been different.

"That's because they went about it all wrong," Livia explained. "Pompey and Caesar both underestimated the Amazon tribes in Thessaly. They didn't take into consideration the nature of the terrain or the fierceness of the warriors because to them, the Amazons were just women with swords who could fall faster than threshed wheat, if possible, easier than any man. However, I am a fighting woman, that's something the Amazons can understand. I will fight them their way, on their terms, and I will win."

He was quiet for a moment. Livia took the opportunity to readjust her hold on him and completely straddle his lap, dropping a hand to his linen covered thigh.

"Think of how much richer I could make you, could make Rome," She purred, slipping a hand inside of his toga.

It didn't take very long for Livia to convince Augustus to give her what she wanted. It never did.

* * *

_Continued..._


	4. Written in the Stars

_**IV. Written in the Stars**_

Rain poured down from the saturated clouds, making muddied badlands out of the plains below. Columns of soldiers marched through, their thick armored profiles cutting brief silhouettes in the downpour. As they stomped and slid around through the muck and long grasses, their leather sandals squished with rainwater against the soles of their feet and the sounds of the fat drops pitter-pattering onto the helmets of the legionaries deadened their ears, making each pounding sound a perpetual agony.

Horses hooves trotted through the unsettled Earth alongside them and a scout appeared riding in the opposite direction that the legion was headed, toward Livia and her commanders at the back of the line. The scout reigned up close to Livia and raised his voice so that she could hear him over the rain.

"The river's grown too wide and too deep for us to be able to ford it now. We will have to set up camp in the forest for the night. Then at dawn we can see how high the water levels are and decide how best to cross it from there," The scout said.

"No," Livia said simply.

"But, my lady—" the scout protested.

"No!" Livia shouted, her voice laced with an edge of finality even as it was almost lost in the peal of thunder rumbling overhead, "We must cross it tonight. I promised I would have Thessaly, Amazon lands and all delivered to the emperor by the celebration to honor his reign in August. I will not fall short on my promises to him and be made a fool of by those high born halfwits in Rome."

"But Lady Livia, the men—"

"Fuck them!" She roared angrily, kicking her horse and advancing forward on him as she was often known to do when someone ignited the short fuse of her infamous rage. "Cowards and dishonorable criminals, the lot of them! And _you_! You're nothing more than the sorry son of a brick maker. How dare you question my judgment! Let me remind you that I have the authority to see to it that you and your entire family are fed to the lions in the arena as soon as we return to Rome! Or would you rather I just fed you and your wife to the beasts and sold your daughters as pleasure slaves to the highest bidder? Both can be arranged. Or...maybe I'll just rape your daughters myself. It's your call."

The scout swallowed and trotted his horse to the back of the line to join the rest of the cavalry, not wanting to anger her enough to see if any of his mistress's threats turned out to be true. Livia watched him retreat and smirked, spurring her horse into a canter beside her troops.

"The rest of you, forward for the glory of Rome and the redemption of all of your sorry hides!" She ordered.

The weary soldiers picked their feet up higher and quickened their paces through their unsteady surroundings. Better to slip, get a few bruises and cuts rather than to have their lady turn on them for her wrath was what they were really afraid of, not the flooded river up ahead or Jupiter's fire up above.

* * *

"Any trail he might have left behind is gone now. We are going to have to cut our losses and return to the village." Ainia said

The younger Amazons all looked at each other as older woman stood up, huddled together inside their animal skin tunics against the rain and cold.

The elders of the village had taken the young ones out on a hunting expedition to improve their scouting and tracking skills. They had managed to wound a wild boar and the pursuit of their quarry had kept them out long into the night, but the weather had finally caught up with them. The wind whipped through the trees around them and a loud cracking sound could be heard as a couple of branches broke off of a tree nearby.

"We can't stay here, Ainia!" Chilapa, another elder, shouted over the roar of the wind. "It'll be the death of all of us!"

Ainia nodded and all of them broke into a run to get back to the village with the elders leading the way. It was only a few leagues to the embankment and then only about another league from there, a relatively short distance to have to cross in a storm and for that Varia was grateful. Beside her, her younger sister, Tura, huddled in closer to her as they ran. Her teeth were chattering and she was losing the battle with her composure against the elements. Varia grabbed her elbow and pulled her along at a quicker pace. The quicker they moved, the quicker they would get to the village and the quicker they could get back to their nice, warm hut and out of the storm.

Another young Amazon, Thalestris, lost her footing in the mud and slipped, causing those immediately behind her to have to hurry around her. Tura stumbled and Varia stopped momentarily to help Thalestris to her feet. The move cost them, as the other girls of their hunting party ran ahead of them in the storm. Varia, Tura, and Thalestris now had to struggle to catch up.

Varia clutched onto the elbows of both girls as she hurried them along. The high grasses of the small hill receded and running parallel to them now was the river, its flow swollen by the storm.

* * *

Livia pushed her horse into a faster gallop, the animal's breathing coming out in heated bursts that disrupted the water running down its snout with every exhalation. The horse slipped in the mud a couple of times—the burden of rider, armour, and all of it wet, heavier than the poor animal was used to carrying in rough weather—but Livia did not slow her pace. She raced ahead of her army and reached the river miles ahead of the first line of infantry. Its banks were flooded just like the scout she had sent had said they would be.

The current was strong and most of what had been the natural shoreline had washed away, leaving a muddied cliff behind that lined the opposite side of the river. There was no way her men—fully armoured as they were—in addition to her supply carts were going to make a climb like that, not so long as the water level was this high, leastways.

But maybe her cavalry could, having added power and leverage from the horses below them. If the horsemen made it across then they could scout the terrain and maybe take a village or two and all before dawn. Livia was twenty years old, reckless, and just daring enough to try anything to get what she wanted.

Livia stared up into the sky, forced to squint as rainwater dripped into her eyes. The clouds were open in some places, giving way to the illusion that the storm may be breaking up soon. She saw a streak of lightening cross the sky and snorted.

"You think this will stop me, Zeus?!" She shouted up at the heavens as if they had ears, "Hear me now, I am Livia of Rome and I will deliver upon my promise to Augustus and no one will stop me!"

A loud rumble of thunder crashed above her as Livia edged her horse, Lucretius, towards the shoreline. The black gelding tried to back up as it neared the racing current, but his mistress dug her heels into his sides and they both meandered into the frigid water. Livia shivered and Lucretius startled beneath her. The current was strong, too strong for the gelding to keep a steady position and as Livia decided that maybe she hadn't made the best decision in the world and was about to go back to the shore before both of them were lost, a large torrent of water came sloshing in her direction. The wall of water washed over them. Lucretius nickered and Livia screamed as both of them were swept away in the waves.

* * *

"Keep your heads down and keep moving!" Varia commanded, leading the two struggling girls through the gale.

The wind had increased and now lightning was slashing across the sky through the downpour, licking at the naked tops of trees. The girls' bare feet slid through the slippery amalgam of mud and submerged grasses the riverbank had become, occasionally losing their footing and falling further behind the group that had probably arrived at the village already. The overflow of the river had increased with the downpour and it was making it nearly impossible for the younger girls to catch up. Varia—being older with more muscle and longer legs—was managing better than the others, but pulling on them and catching them when they lost their feet slowed her down as well.

Tura stepped too far and threw off her centre of balance, falling down in to the slosh beneath them.

"Tura!" Varia yelled, bending down and grabbing her sister tightly.

"I'm sorry, I—"

But Tura couldn't continue. Her whole body was shaking too badly. Varia reached behind her neck and felt the burning of a fever burning there. She had to get Tura out of the storm and fast or she might lose the only member of her family she had left. Just then something moved in the current of the river and Varia caught the floating carcass of a horse bobbing along down the rocks. Behind it floated another form, not nearly as buoyant or as dead as a hand reached out of the water and managed to grab for a dark rock. The figure was anchored for a moment by the rock and managed to turn her face out of the spray of water and look up towards the shore. Darken hazel eyes met Varia's and she instantly felt the fear and sadness within their owner overpower her. Then the woman growled as she lost her hold on the rock and was swept violently downstream.

Varia hadn't recognized the girl, but that didn't mean anything. It could have been another member of the hunting party that had been swallowed up by the river. Even though she didn't want to leave Tura, they were only a few leagues away from the village now and if the girls could make it on their own then Varia could save the girl in the water.

"Alright, here is what you are going to do," Varia commanded, taking hold of Thalestris arm as well and pulling her close. "Move as safely as you can towards that line of trees over there. Then you can use them for cover and balance to outpace the water. Follow the trees until they run out and the village will be just a league ahead."

Tura's eyes grew wide as a trapped animal's.

"You're coming with us aren't you?"

"No, Tura," Varia said.

"Varia, you must come with us! You must! We can't leave you out here, we—"

Varia held her sister's face between both her hands and looked into her eyes to calm her, "Listen, Tura, you can do this. Do you hear me. You can make it and after I grab that girl from the water I will be along. You can do this."

Tura opened her mouth as if to protest again, but her whole body shook so violently in that moment that she couldn't form words. Varia guided Tura into Thalestris's arms and told her to help her. The girls made for the treeline and Varia followed the flow of the river as closely as she dared. The woman's weighted body bobbed up and down in the water, sometimes with her emerging and clawing at the current as if she could dig herself out and then disappearing under the water again. Varia matched the speed of the current, jogging next to the riverside. She knew that she had to do both rescue the woman before she came to the twining waterfall just west of there and before she could swallow enough water to drown. Time was of the essence. Finally,

Varia saw her opportunity as the horse carcass snagged a stiffened leg on a rock temporarily blocking the path of all floating debris and the floating body.

As Varia entered the water, she realized that the girl was not only unconscious now, but a stranger. She wasn't from Varia's tribe and yet Varia still couldn't find it in her heart to turn back now and let the woman drown. She waded out until she almost couldn't touch the riverbed anymore and stopped. The force of the current wasn't as bad as Varia had been expecting, but the wind was still very strong. The unconscious form bobbed and final sank below the water leaving Varia scrambling after it.

The water below was nothing like the raging storm above.

It was calm. Embracing Livia's sinking body like a mother cradling her child until her metal armour clanked softly against the mud. Air bubbles shimmered up from Livia's nose as her breastplate dragged through the mud at the behest of the current. Her lungs were filling with water and soon enough it would be all over. All of the pain she'd caused, the annihilations of whole races of people and the enslavement of their children would finally be avenged with Livia's death. The long awaited wish of every one of her victims was drawing closer with every ounce of fluid seeping into Livia's lungs. However, the Fates apparently had other plans for the girl as two arms clutched at the shoulders of her armoured torso and pulled her up to the surface.

The face of the water broke as Varia swam up, using one arm to paddle towards the shore and the other to hold the slight body, made heavy by water and metal, closer to her. The wind was championing the flow of the river and it took all of Varia's considerable strength to pull herself against the current and towards the embankment. Once her feet hit sand, Varia dug her heels in and gradually managed to pull the woman up onto the mud. What she saw when she set the stranger down wasn't what she had been expected. The woman wasn't from their tribe, but nor was she an Amazon either. The stranger's breastplate had been pounded out of hammered steel to fit her specifically and engraved with intricate designs to show her status. Though it was beautifully made, such embellishing of armour wasn't an Amazon custom.

Whoever the woman was though, she was exceptionally beautiful. Even Varia who had yet to love anyone in her life could attest that she was attracted to her. The planes of the stranger's face were thin and smooth, her lips full and luscious, and her hair dark was smeared damply across her forehead. A warm feeling ignited inside of Varia as her eyes involuntarily travelled the length of the stranger's body from face to waist and up again only to be surprised at meeting the steady gaze of open hazel eyes.

Varia suddenly felt very self-conscious and aware of the fact that the situation this woman found herself in was compromising and that Varia might be perceived as a threat. However, the well-dressed stranger wasn't afraid. Instead, she sat up and coughed the water out of her lungs without making any other effort to move away. Once she could breathe easily again, Livia straightened up and turned to scrutinize Varia. This time it was the amazon's turn to be afraid. The eyes that dissected her were hard and guarded unlike they had been when they had first met peering out from the river, trying to stay above the raging flood. Livia's expression, previously soft and relaxed, was taunt and unfriendly. Varia took a step back as though expecting to be attacked and Livia rose unsteadily to her feet.

"Who are you? Identify yourself," Livia commanded in a low voice.

Varia blinked, "My…my name is Varia and I am the one who pulled you out of the river. What's yours?"

Livia paused at the question. This girl, this barbarian actually thought they were equals. _Ha!_ But looking into her warm eyes, something in Livia was loathe to break the faith this girl had in her to be left alone with her and no wiser for it.

"Livia," she said, looking away.

The downpour had let up a bit and was now just a drizzle being whipped about by the wind. Livia's stared off into space briefly, the memories of her foolhardy decision to cross the river alone running through her head. Her defensive stance relaxed a bit and she noted the openness with which Varia addressed her as well as her much younger age. If this girl was really a threat, she wouldn't have pulled her out of the water in the first place. She would have let her drown or have killed her as quickly as she had her on the mud. Besides, this Varia seemed to have a vulnerability and unworldliness radiating from her expression that reminded Livia of herself in when she was younger and happier.

"What are you? Thracian? Amazon?"

Varia didn't answer right away, knowing better than to give herself away to a complete stranger, but when Livia walked up to her looming darkly close, Varia's better sense momentarily left her.

"Answer me, girl," Livia ordered.

"Amazon," she answered, wishing she hadn't.

"Perfect," Livia intoned through a sultry smirk. "Come with me."

Livia didn't have to raise a dagger to the girl's throat and threaten her to follow. Varia's innocent curiosity took care of that for her. The Roman led the way into the treeline and stopped as soon as she had reached a tree whose leaves were dense enough to keep the majority of the rain off of them. Shedding her inhibitions, Livia leaned against a pine tree and eyed her companion critically as Varia started to cough. The girl's skin was pale as Phoenician marble in the dim light that made it through the canopy, though her hair was black as fertile soil and her long body was as lean and tempting as Livia imagined Atalanta's had been when she was hunting boar in Boeotia hundreds of years ago.

But the Amazon's beautiful features were contorted once more as she coughed violently into her hand. Livia quietly unclasped the damp cloak from her shoulders and dropped it onto Varia's. She felt the girl startle, but she didn't run away as Livia refocused her attention on finding something dry enough to burn. If she was going to make it through the night until her blockheaded officers finally decided to send some soldiers out looking for her then she would need a fire. Varia just watched the older woman pace around contemplatively with blazing eyes.

How could this be the same woman whose eyes had promised Varia a painful death if she didn't divulge her name within minutes of being pulled from a watery fate? How could someone so tough be soft at times and brisk as a breath of winter air the next? Amazon warriors were known for their strict demeanours and their willingness to fight to the death for any cause close to their hearts, but most of the older warriors Varia knew were very seldom so crass as to be unsympathetic to others. However, Livia was unusual. So far, Varia had only spent a few moments with her, but she had seen the tides of Livia's indifference rise and wane towards her in that short amount of time. It was as if the woman—like Hermaphroditus—were two people stuffed into one human shell and one personality couldn't be in control all of the time so they had been reduced to taking turns.

Livia suddenly stopped in her pacing, walked to Varia, and bent her head, sealing their lips together in a kiss. Varia had never been kissed before. She knew many women who were in loving, sexual relationships with one another and at least one or two young ones who had their eyes on her, but she had never had the urge to pull her head up out of the monotonous sand of daily life and fall in love. Until now. Livia's lips were hot and wet and inviting in a way she had never thought another woman's could be against her own mouth. Though the kiss was brief and chaste, it was the most wonderful feeling Varia could ever remember having. When Livia pulled away, she kept their faces close, staring into Varia's deep, dark eyes. Captivating her.

"Why did you save me?"

The question was direct and a little brash, seeming out of place after such an intimate moment and it reminded Varia that she and this woman she had saved were strangers. Varia looked down and her cheeks colored.

"You were drowning. It was the right thing to do," Varia said, quietly.

The air grew cold as Livia retreated from her, and smirked arrogantly.

"You'll regret saving me in time." Livia said.

"Why?"

Livia just grinned, "You'll see. We'll meet again soon, Amazon. Very soon, indeed."

The storm died down. Livia and Varia didn't speak again. Varia wanted to, but the other woman kept her back to Varia until the rain stopped falling. Then Livia took off on her own, following the flow of the river until she found a shallow place to cross. Varia watched her go, wanting to shout out, but lacking the conviction to tell Livia she'd forgotten her cloak.

* * *

Livia rendezvoused with her legion not long after finding a shallow place to cross the river again. Her officers had made the call to make camp for the night in her absence and the tents, palisade walls, defensive earthen trenches had been dug in as the storm raged. It was one of the marks of a good army that they could raise a defensible camp at a moment's notice, but at this particular moment Livia was less than impressed with the efficiency of her men and more concerned with the independent agency the officers who had taken command in her absence. For her own peace of mind, she didn't know whether to commend them or order them crucified to make sure they weren't a threat in the even that she proved less than dead. However, Livia was too exhausted having walked leagues and leagues beneath the dripping weight of armor, leather, and wool to find the legion in the first place, to let her anger at the lack of care given to her being gone do anything other than propel her feet forward one after the other.

By the time she reached the praetorian gate, Livia's return had been announced throughout the camp and common soldiers and centurions alike looked up from whatever they were doing to watch their dishevelled and sodden leader march a path of shame towards the command tent. When she arrived, Sabinus, the senior tribune was at the table leaning over a map of Thessaly and the Aegean, briefing the two junior tribunes on the battle plan he had made to replace her own. Sabinus had obviously decided Livia wasn't coming back and he'd promoted himself in her absence. That would stop now. Livia was alive and back in command.

When she walked through the tent flap, Sabinus had the good sense to bow to her and look chagrined.

"Imperator," he said as the other tribunes followed his lead and did the same. "We had feared you were lost to us in the storm."

_You obviously weren't bereaved at my loss to have me gone at taking my place so readily, _Livia thought, smoothing the still wet hair off of her forehead and summoning all of her rage to appear as imposing as possible. At the change in her expression, Sabinus dropped his eyes from her gaze and looked to the floor.

"Fear is for hags and barbarians," Livia said with such disdain that the faces of the three men actually colored in shame. "I assume you elevated yourself to the task, despite your obvious grief at my loss."

Sabinus rose and Livia could see the fury in his eyes at being berated by a woman and the "Great Bitch of Rome" no less. He had never been anything, but a hopeless suck up in her presence and once he had realized that she wasn't going to give in to his appeals to her vanity, Sabinus had begun to hide his loathing of her behind a self-assured smile. The only place where he couldn't shield what he felt was in his eyes and that was his downfall. Livia would enjoy dishonouring him. All it need take was time and she had no lack of that.

Sabinus acted the part of the loyal companion well, never faltering, "An honor and responsibility I am eager to relinquish back into rightful hands."

Livia didn't look at him. Bored and exhausted, she turned her back to the men. Clearly, she didn't fear them and was no stranger to obstinate men who despised taking orders from a woman. They could turn on her in a second and she would still have their heads on spear tips by the end of the night.

"Leave me," she said.

All three tribunes saluted and hurried from her presence. She would've had more fun berating them and drawing out their displeasure if she'd had the energy, but her skin was peppered with goose bumps and the heaviness of her armor and dripping leathers was wearing quickly on her abused muscles. She rang a brass bell on the table and a young male slave in a wool tunic came in.

"Castus."

"You rang, Domina?"

"Yes, prepare water for a bath and have some dry clothes brought for me."

"Yes, Domina."

As the slave left to carry out her orders, Livia began stripping off her armor piece by piece and wet under things. Once she was naked, she wrapped herself in a fur lined velvet cloak and poured herself a cup of Iberian wine, collapsing into the chair in front of the table. Her eyes moved over the dull words and curves of the map, but her thoughts lingered on the face of the beautiful young Amazon who had risked her own life to save Livia's. Varia had seemed so open and unguarded. Livia couldn't remember the last time she had met someone like that. Someone who didn't look at her with fear or mistrust or appreciation for taking advantage of what she could do. Instead, she'd looked up at Livia like she was just…a person.

Everything she had done, the woman she was, the monster the world knew her to be: all of it had fallen away like so much melted snow in the dark gaze and the virginal kissing lips of an innocent young girl. Livia couldn't remember a time when she had been innocent. She had never been expected to be so. Growing up sandwiched in rooms between conniving, posturing old men had taught Livia that innocence was akin to ignorance masquerading itself as a virtue. No Roman worth their salt ever benefited from not knowing what was coming. Even less so from not being able to out manoeuvre the person who wanted you dead. And to be able to make them dead in turn. Being innocent wasn't conducive to survival in a society built upon warfare and political sabotage.

Livia had not been brought up to believe that mercy, pity, or love were virtues to aspire to, but weaknesses. The Roman way instructed force, power, loyalty, duty, and tradition to be the virtues to live by. Sex, nudity, brutality, money, food, and drink were just perks of being a successful survivalist, which Livia had spent the past fifteen years of her life proving she was. But the Amazon girl had almost made Livia forget that she was a Roman. Instead, in Varia's embrace, Livia had felt herself to be an individual without expectations placed upon her or disappointments. She had almost been tempted to shed her armor, follow her savior back to her own village, and start new. Then reality had kicked back in and Livia was reminded who she was and more importantly, that this girl was a barbarian and therefore, not worthy to sleep at her feet.

This realization brought forward two contradicting feelings within her: one was resentment at the high esteem she was feeling towards this Amazon, the other was an intense attraction to everything primitive that Varia represented and it was this ambivalence that she buried away until she didn't feel anything. That left an open space for the pure hatred she had always felt for the world and the resentment she felt of her own kind to wash back into take the place of the more pleasant emotions. In her natural state, she was largely dispassionate and unimpressed by the life around her and it was only when Livia was allowed to kill and let her wrath out upon humanity that she felt truly alive. Until Varia.

Just the short meeting between them had made her feel alive. Confused and bitter at being attracted to a barbarian who symbolized everything she'd been raised to be above, but alive with the whisper of excitement and attraction at the same time. And that wasn't something Livia was sure she was comfortable with. Though she was grateful to and intrigued by Varia, she also couldn't condone what the Amazon had chosen to do. Varia was uncivilized and stupid therefore her self-sacrifice was a weakness and it had already unknowingly betrayed herself and her people to death the following morning.

When the sun rose, the legion would pack up camp and advance across the shallow portion of the river she'd found on her way back and invade Amazon territory. If everything went to plan, Livia would have these lands conquered and claimed in the name of Augustus by noon and a new catch of slaves in their cages and ready to transverse the Via Egnatia all the way to Thessalonica, the great port city in Macedonia where ships were waiting to take them across the Aegean. Castus returned, carrying a brass tub and two additional slaves struggling with fat buckets of steaming water. The buckets were emptied into the tub, a bowl of rose petals were thrown in, and a clean tunic was laid across an ivory chair before the slaves left Livia alone again with her thoughts.

* * *

Varia waited in the same clump of trees she and Livia had waited out the storm together in, waiting now for what she didn't know. Part of her was hoping the other woman would return, but when Livia didn't come back within a slight movement of the moon across the sky, Varia gave up and hurried back to the village. All of the huts and usual meeting places were quiet already. The slight flicker of a dying fire still shown through most of the windows indicating that some of the warriors were no doubt still up adding wood to their cooking fires to keep the night's chill away. The sentries on night duty had no doubt spotted her in the woods, but hadn't seen fit to bother her on her trek back, since she was one of their own and soaked completely through her leathers from the storm.

The orange light of flame flickered in her own hut window, beckoning Varia softly home. When she entered the yurt she shared with Tura, she could already see that her sister was asleep on her straw cot in the corner and the small cooking fire that had made a pot of porridge still sitting on the floor by the fireplace was licking away at one whitening log. Tura had probably been worried when she didn't come back right away and made dinner then sat up to wait for Varia's return and fell asleep. Varia moved forward and knelt beside Tura, drawing a blanket over her shoulders from the foot of the bed. She tasted the porridge. It was a little too salty for her taste. She preferred to make it with honey, but she and her sister had tastes as different as night and day.

Thought Varia was the older of the two and the better warrior, Tura was by far the better caretaker. She had a warm, passionate heart that cared for everyone and everything and propelled her to protect the people she loved even when she knew the opponent she was facing was stronger and would probably kill her. Varia remembered a time when she had taken Tura hunting alone in the bush and a deer they had cornered charged her. Varia had been poised with arrow and bow to take him down before he reached her, but Tura raced in front of her, intending to take the full brunt of the horns before the dangerous antlers could impale Varia.

Varia had managed only by instinct and lucky aim to shoot the stag in the eye before he reached them and spirit Tura out of the way as he skidded to a halt where they had stood. The experience had shaken Varia more than it had Tura. Though not quite old enough to take up the warrior's sword, Tura had been every bit as brave and unflinching as the most legendary Amazon queens in the old stories and all to save her sister. Varia was a warrior. She had been for two or so years and though she hadn't seen many battles, she was one of the tribe's most promising warriors. Tura should have known she didn't need protection, but the girl wasn't thinking with her head when she threw herself in front of Varia and certain death. It was her immense love for her older sister, the only family Tura had left that had propelled her and almost gotten her killed.

Varia shook her head. She sat down on her own cot and removed her boots and drying leathers and changed into a simple wool sleeping tunic. She hadn't felt tired before now, but sitting down had relaxed her muscles and reminded Varia just how much the day's activities had taken out of her. She leaned back and covered herself with her own blanket, hopeful that the arrival of sleep and a new day would bring some peace to her troubled mind.

* * *

_**Thanks for reading! Please drop a review on your way out! :)**_


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